She stepped inside, and Ric closed the door gently behind them.
Then he turned to her, eyes locking with hers.
Cammy stared at him, frozen in place.
"Ric, what is this about?"
He reached for the doorknob of one of the doors inside.
And just before he opened it, he looked back at her and said:
"I hope you're ready."
Cammy held her breath as Ric slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open. Instead of something ominous, she found herself standing at the threshold of a pristine walk-in closet, softly lit and immaculately arranged.
In the center, displayed like sacred artifacts on two separate dress forms, were two tuxedos—one in elegant dove gray, the other in a smooth, understated beige. The fabrics shimmered subtly under the lights, each with its own quiet charm.
Ric stepped in first and motioned her closer. "This," he said, gesturing to the display, "is what I wanted to show you."
Cammy stepped in beside him, her eyes darting between the two suits. "Tuxedos?"
